


Mixtape

by Mayamali



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Lucio makes a mixtape, M/M, phantom pains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-17 04:33:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8130530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mayamali/pseuds/Mayamali
Summary: Junkrat slid into the seat across from him on the table and grinned, resting his chin in his hands. “Sent me a mixtape?”

  Lucio grinned a little sheepishly, as best as he could with a mouth full of cereal.





	

It started when Lucio woke up.

To be specific, when he woke up laying under a flap of burlap on the cold, hard ground on a mission between Watchpoint: Gibraltar and the neighboring town, and Junkrat was laying next to him, hissing and growling as he tossed and turned.

It was the cold that had woken him up. Junkrat, Lucio had learned quickly, tended to get tangled up in whatever passed for sheets that night. But tonight was especially bad, because he was quickly becoming a burlap burrito, and not in the good way.

He sat up on his elbows, watching for a moment. Listening. He couldn't make out anything Junkrat was saying, just hisses and curses and – whimpers. If he squinted and leaned over to get a glimpse of his face, he saw flinches of pain. He reached out to gently shake Junkrat's arm and stir him awake.

Junkrat jolted upright with a snort. “What?”

“You okay?”

“Sure, sure,” he said vacantly, itching towards his arm. No, Lucio realized; not just his arm. His _right_ arm. The arm that was missing.

The prosthetics were bold and loud and a little dingy – a lot like the person who wore them. It had taken him five seconds to notice when they first met, and it took him six to realize what was happening now.

“You listenin', frog?” Lucio blinked, looking back up. “I asked if you got that heal-y music thingie.”

“Uh -”

“Listen, mate,” Junkrat continued, crawling up onto his hands and knees – or as best as he could. “I'd give an arm and a leg, hehe, for some painkillers or somethin'.”

“I, uh – wait.” Lucio sat up and grabbed his bag, digging through it. “I didn't bring my amp, but... here.” He fished out a pair of headphones and a music player. “I've got my healin' jams on here, that might help. Otherwise, aspirin?”

Junkrat snatched the headphones away and turned them up, down, side to side, thoroughly examining them while Lucio plugged them into the player. “Aspirin might help, yeah. So I just listen through these and it should fix me up?”

“Yeah. Just – settle back down now, yeah?” Lucio reached over to grab Junkrat's shoulder, immediately pulling away at how quickly the Junker tensed up at his touch. “Lay on back and feel it.”

Junkrat reluctantly laid back down, leg and arm twitching slightly as he readjusted on the ground, slipping the headphones over ears. Lucio hit play and carefully turned the volume up just loud enough that Junkrat should've been able to hear it. “How's that?”

Junkrat paused, then glanced over. “Is it playin' yet?”

Lucio blinked, then slowly turned the volume up louder. And louder still. And just loud enough that _he_ could hear it when Junkrat finally yelled, “Oh! Now I hear it!” and gave him a thumbs-up. “When's this supposed to kick in?”

“As soon as you -” Lucio stopped, focusing on over-enunciating his words so Junkrat could read his lips. “As soon as you relax and _feel_ it.”

Junkrat pouted at him a little, then turned to stare straight up into the sky. Eventually, he seemed to relax a little bit, his breathing settling out, and he quickly fell asleep. Lucio watched him for a while, making sure it was taking effect.

He blinked, and it was morning, and Junkrat was whistling to himself while he clicked his prosthetics back on. “Mornin', froggie! C'mon, time's wastin'!”

That was what birthed the playlist.

He could hear Junkrat mumbling and growling on occasion when he went to check in on the Junkers at night. Roadhog didn't seem too concerned whenever Lucio brought it up, and all of those nights, he thought about the night he played the music for him.

He had to delve outside of his comfort zone. He played his music around base on occasion, and while everyone else seemed to be a fan at most, begrudgingly approving at worst, Junkrat just seemed... uninterested. As a test one day, he played something a little grungier, thick with angry guitar riffs, and something interesting happened.

Junkrat seemed happier. So did Roadhog, now that he thought about it, although it was hard to tell with that mask.

So he tossed in his healing tunes, of course, but he also threw some classic rock – amplified a little to add some healing power, of course – and tossed them on a special music player he bought in his spare time.

One day, Junkrat was very distracted – tossing grenades at the smallest sounds, getting clipped in the shoulder by a well-placed shot from Widowmaker – and Lucio could tell by the absent look in his eyes that he was having trouble focusing. The playlist went from three songs to five, then eight. By the time Lucio actually got it to him, there was eleven songs. It bugged him a little that it wasn't an even number.

Junkrat slid into the seat across from him on the table and grinned, resting his chin in his hands. “Sent me a mixtape?”

Lucio grinned a little sheepishly, as best as he could with a mouth full of cereal.

“S'cute. Like being lil' schoolkids back before the war'n whatever,” Junkrat giggled. “I liked it. Makes things less fuzzy'n all that. Lemme know if you find any more of those songs and whatever, right?”

“Sure thing.”

But it wasn't Lucio that found the next song – instead, he was the one that got one.

There was a song pulled up on his personal computer when he came home from a mission one day. He was surprised Junkrat knew how to pick a lock; he'd assumed Junkrat would just blow open any locked doors.

It was classic rock, not really his forte, and there wasn't any alterations; he didn't feel any healing or amplifying sub-beats in the music, but the words were strong. “Just made me think of... you or whatever,” Junkrat mumbled at dinner, avoiding eye contact.

Lucio smiled, propping his chin on a fist. Then faceplanted into Hana's bed with a groan.

“You like him,” Hana said in awe. She'd left the match she was playing, which is how he knew she took this seriously.

“Stop.”

“Like, a lot?”

“No.”

“You made him a _playlist_! And he sent you a song back!”

“Friends do that!”

“Uh-huh.” Hana rolled her eyes and snapped her gum, turning back to enter into a new match. “Send him a kind-of-but-not-really love song, see what he says. At worst, you can say it's a joke, he likes those.”

Junkrat did like jokes, mostly of the 'terrible pun' variety. Lucio huffed thoughtfully at the realization, watching as Hana entered a match an proceeded to start decimating the other team.

This wasn't hard, he told himself. Just talk to him. But no matter how much he tried to hype himself up, he couldn't bring himself to knock on the door to Junkrat's cabin – he and Roadhog had gotten their own separate housing on their request.

Easy. Knock, go in, ask if he wants to be a thing and maybe kiss a little, and gracefully bow out if the answer was 'no'. Except it was proving to be anything but easy. Lucio took a deep breath and raised a hand, curled up in a fist to knock on the door, when it swung open and Junkrat nearly walked out into him.

“Whoa whoa!” the Junker yelled, skidding to a stop and hopping backwards. “Christ, Lu, ya scared me.”

Lucio forced himself to laugh, then realized it was forced and just kind of chuckled awkwardly. “Sorry! Sorry.”

“What're ya doin' here?”

“I, uh. I was just... out for a walk and...” Lucio fumbled with his hands, gesturing vaguely before sighing and putting his hands on his hips. “Do you got time to talk? Were you going somewhere?”

Junkrat looked over his shoulder. Uh-oh. “Uhh – nah, yeah. C'mon in. I was just checkin' to see if I remembered to lock the door.” He stepped back and opened the door wider, and Lucio took a deep breath before stepping inside.

There were cots in the far corner. One was a complete mess, full of paper and tossed blankets. The other was much tidier with a single Pachimari plushie sitting in front of the pillow. A little work bench sat against the wall. Otherwise, it was... almost depressing to look at, blank and utilitarian. Not a home quite yet.

The door closed behind him as he took it all in and Junkrat spoke as he moved past him to flop on the messier bed. “Make yourself at home, yeah?” He paused, then started tossing off papers as an afterthought.

“Thanks.” Lucio waited for him to make room before moving to sit next to him.

“Whatcha wanna talk about?” Junkrat pulled his legs up, crossing them and rocking back and forth idly. Even when he sat he couldn't keep still.

“So uh... I think we, uh...” Lucio rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh, this is hard.”

“Breakin' up with me?” Junkrat said it lightly, but the chuckle that followed was... almost anxious-sounding? Or maybe he was hearing things. Lucio felt blood rush to his cheeks.

“Wouldn't that require us to be dating?” Lucio looked at him from the corner of his eye, hesitating.. “Which is, uh... Actually what I wanted to talk to you about.” Junkrat perked up a bit at that. Then he leaned in to peer at Lucio suspiciously, lips pursed. Then he leaned back, eyes widening to blink. But he didn't say anything, so Lucio took a deep breath and turned to him.

“I was just wonderin' if you like me. And, y'know, how much.”

Junkrat steepled his fingers, drumming them against each other. “Well, yeah, I like ya lots, mate.” Lucio gestured for him to continue, and he paused for a moment to scratch his cheek. “Uhh. I mean, you're nice to me and ya made me that mixtape thingie. I like when you smile. I like that you get it – suits are suits are terrible pond-scum.” Lucio huffed a laugh at that. “And sometimes I get mad that I can't hug ya so I punch the wall.”

“...You punch the wall?”

Junkrat nodded at a few little scuffs at the wall. “Don't worry, I use me fake hand.”

Lucio sighed and re-adjusted, kneeling on the bed and facing Junkrat. “Well, item one: don't do that. Please?” Junkrat chewed on the inside of his lip for a second; a tell that he was anxious. He always got fidgety when someone gave him orders. “Item two: who said you can't hug me?”

“I dunno, you blokes are so weird about 'decency' or whatever.” Junkrat hooked his fingers into air-quotes.

Lucio opened his arms wide. Junkrat's entire face lit up, and he practically launched himself against Lucio, burying his forehead into his chest. Lucio's heart beat a little funny as he wrapped his arms around him. “Item three,” he said as he tried to catch his breath. “I, uh. Like you a lot, too.”

“How much is 'a lot'?” Junkrat's voice was muffled, but curious.

“Like...” He paused to contemplate this, putting his hand on the back of Junkrat's head, feeling the singed tips of his hair.

Junkrat offered up some suggestions. “Like 'oh yeah, I like that guy, what a card'? Or 'I wanna snuggle with 'im and maybe kiss 'im a little'?”

He was hesitant to answer, but eventually the words bubbled up in his chest and he muttered, “The second one.”

Junkrat was quiet for a moment, and for that moment, Lucio was worried that he'd made a mistake. But then the words replayed in his head like a gear – that had been an oddly specific way of saying it. But his thoughts were interrupted when Junkrat started to giggle. It was the high-pitched giggle Lucio usually heard on the battlefield when he was firing shots off from his frag launcher like the world was about to end. In short, unbridled joy.

“Shit! Really? Fuck, froggo, I didn't think that'd work. Nothin' like a bit of self-projectin', right?”

“You wanna do that? The snugglin' thing?”

“I'm a snuggler.” Junkrat lifted his head up and grinned up at him, and Lucio felt a pull. He leaned forward and readjusted just a little bit and then he was kissing him. Well, he kind of kissed Junkrat's teeth because he was smiling so wide, but the blunder was easily fixed. It was all so easy.

At least, until Junkrat got into it. Lucio had gone in gently, but as soon as Junkrat caught up to speed, it changed, became fierce and harsh and eager and he was utterly fascinated by it. It wasn't until he realized he was on his back with a leg pressed against Junkrat's hip and their mouths pressed together in a way that made him breathless that he thought to pull back. “Whoa,” he muttered as soon as he had a chance to pull away.

“Whoa,” Junkrat agreed.

“Let's, uh, settle down for just a second.” He pushed gently on Junkrat's chest, laughing quietly at the stubborn whine he received. “Not that I don't appreciate the enthusiasm.”

“I'm a go-big-or-go-home kinda guy.” Junkrat grinned as he rolled onto his side, propping his head up on his hand.

Lucio took a deep breath and sat up, running a hand over his face. “So I take it you wouldn't mind us being a thing?”

“What'd'ya mean?”

“Like us. As an item? Couple thing?”

“Oh. Yeah.” Junkrat beamed, nodding vigorously. “I mean. If you don't mind your perfect image bein' tarnished by the internationally wanted criminal of a vulture hangin' off your neck.”

Lucio swatted his arm. “Vultures are pretty ecologically important you know.” The blank look Junkrat gave him made the joke fall flat, and he cleared his throat. “If you promise not to pull anything... You want me to stay the night?”

Junkrat dropped his head onto the bed and nodded. “Mmhm.”

Lucio rolled his eyes and started kicking off his shoes. “Fine. But only 'cause you're so good at arguing.” The second he laid down, Junkrat scooted in behind him, wrapping his arm around his waist once he'd worked off his prosthetics and resting his chin on his shoulder. It was cozy and warm and it wasn't long before Lucio found himself drifting off into sleep.


End file.
